Chaos Theory
by villains
Summary: Random acts of injustice means there is no justice. The loss of innocence, well that means there is no innocence. Post-TDK Joker, one shot.


**Title**: Chaos Theory  
**Word Count**: 709  
**Notes**: It's 4AM. I should be asleep but I'm not, so here I am, writing about the Joker. It's not my usual, well, maybe it is. I like writing with deep psychological aspect depending on the character/topic and the Joker, he fits the bill perfectly. I usually never write using the reader but it fit, so yeah, spoilers abound I suppose.

* * *

You know, they think they've won. Oh yes, they think they're winning this war but they're not. The seed of doubt and anarchy's already been planted. People readily embraced it. I didn't leave anything up to that fist fight with the Battyman and never to Harvey Dent.

Dent, Dent, oh Harvey Dent; now there's a boy who'd make their father proud – well, maybe not _his_ father but damn. He outdid himself, really. Plant one seed, one doubt and they're done for. The White Knight, the guardian of the city, ha! He went down faster than, well that hospital. He really is my piece de la resistance, crème of the crop, the blade on my knife, the matching vest to coat. Yes, without Dent, well I'd just being blowing things up and that's not fun, there's no panic. People aren't scared. People aren't constantly on edge. I like when people panic, when they scream and run, all that is just good…clean fun.

People, they're so predictable, so easy to read. They try to have different layers, but really, we're all animals deep down. I know you are. You sit there, you try and tell yourself you're not when really, well you're no better than me – I just bring out the best in you! You're only as good as the world allows you, never give anymore but will always give less and my public introduction of anarchy, well that's made it easier. Random acts of injustice means there is no justice. The loss of innocence, well that means there is no innocence. The only ways to survive in this dog eat…dog world is to live without restriction, without rules. Are you picking up the punch line to the joke? I take that your answer is a resounding no, well then I'll let you in on the secret: the punch line is your life.

Oh yes, I said it. I let the cat out of the bag. That's right, your life is the biggest joke ever told. I know, and I thought my jokes were bad.

They ask me why I did it. I ended up in Gotham after a roll of the dice and here's this perfect city. This perfect, perfect city ready to explode, and me, well I am a man of simple taste; I like gunpowder….and dynamite…and gasoline. My tastes are perfect for this town; my level of criminal is at its peak for this Batboy. I never had any plans besides upset the established order, let the pieces fall way they may and cheat the game. Me, well, I'm content to sit and wait, wait for the impulse. The impulse to just…do, and oh I can't ignore it, I can't, I can't, I can't. It's like a scratch I can't itch. I just need to.

The Battyman, he can't accept this, it does…not…compute with him; the immovable object and the unstoppable force. The incorruptible Dark Knight, the silent protector of the city of Gotham – ha! Don't make me laugh. They assume I'm completely insane, but being insane would mean I'd have to know what I'm doing is wrong, well it isn't. It's the only way to live and Batboy, he lives by his one rule, his one, simple, itty bitty, tiny rule but it rules his entire existence so I tried to break it for him. Make it easy but he just couldn't take a hint, he wouldn't let me help him help himself. No, no, no, no, he couldn't make it easy for me; he couldn't even give me the…_pleasure_…of taking away it away.

No, I wasn't fit or worthy enough, but Harvey, Harvey Dent was, and he was dead, a corpse! Well, allegedly dead but we all know that's a lie, don't we sweet cakes? But Dent, lovely Two Faced Harvey Dent was given the _honor _of stripping the Knight of his rule, taking all those little...itty bitty murders of crooked cops and mobsters onto his shoulders to keep the White Knight white. To save the soul of Gotham, to keep the spirit from breaking, did it work? Are you still enchanted, or have I disenchanted you yet? Are you questioning your _values_? Are you questioning what you believe in yet?

You should, but then again, I believe whatever doesn't kill you simply makes you...stranger.

* * *

**Author Note**: It jumps all over, but I think The Joker's thought process is like that; all over the place but in perfect…chaotic order. It's now 5:13AM and I'm off to bed.


End file.
